Dream of: 30 September 1996 "Atomic Bomb"

The news wasn't quite clear. In an hour my home would be destroyed by an atomic bomb. I didn't know whether the bomb had already exploded and an hour would elapse before the blast reached my home, or whether the bomb would be dropped in an hour.

I was in the Summerdale Drive House. Two cities east of me, Arlington and Irving, apparently had been the targets of the bombs. Again it wasn't quite clear whether one of the cities had already been bombed. It seemed most likely that Arlington had already been hit, and Irving would be next.

These facts were important to me because Carolina worked in the news room of a television station in Irving. What was most disconcerting about the entire affair was that Carolina had earlier insisted on going to work, even though she had known of the probability that the atomic bombs would be dropped. Now there was no time for me to try to save her. My only chance of survival was to immediately jump in my car and head in the opposite direction from where Carolina and the bombs were.

I glanced around the living room. I certainly had many possessions in the House which I would have to leave behind, but strangely, leaving the possessions didn't bother me. I found myself much less attached to my belongings than I would have thought. I grabbed my keys and my billfold, knowing I must have those. The only other thing I picked up were a few pieces of papers which contained poems which I had been memorizing. I noticed that one poem was written in Greek. If I were going to be leaving for unknown parts, the poems would probably be a comfort to me on the way.

With my pet Dalmatian by my side, I hurried outside and toward my car. My quiet suburban neighborhood was abuzz. People were scurrying out of their brick homes, hastily loading things into their cars. I quickly realized my worst problem now would be the traffic, with thousands of people rushing to get out of town. I needed to think about the direction I was going and what road I would take. It might be better to stay off the main roads, which would probably be clogged up, and instead to head down the back streets which would have less traffic.

Just as I was about to get in my car, I saw that my next door neighbor, a friendly woman nearing retirement, was also loading her car and preparing to leave. I told her that she should head south, but then I stopped and reflected that heading west might be best, or even northwest. I mentioned that she definitely should not go east. She was smiling and seemed rather nonchalant about the whole thing, as if it would work itself out.

After I had climbed behind the steering wheel of my little red car, she walked up to the passenger-side window, which was down, and lifted a small white dog with a few brown spots through the window. I immediately saw what she was trying to do. This little dog belonged to her, but she apparently was unable to take it with her, and she wanted me to save it. I immediately said I was sorry, but that I was unable to take the dog, and I insisted that she take the dog out of the car, which she did. I felt no remorse. It simply wasn't practical for me to be taking on another dog at this delicate point. I began pulling out of my driveway.

As I drove through a residential area, sticking to the back streets, I was relieved to see that the roads weren't filled with traffic, although I could see that more and more people were pulling into the streets. However the main thing on my mind was Carolina. The thought that she would be killed by the atomic blast was suddenly overwhelming. She was so young and full of life; it was almost unimaginable to think that she was going to die. And how could I have been so stupid to let her go to work? It seemed that she had even known that the bomb was coming, but that she had wanted to go to work anyway. How could I have allowed it? My pain was so immense, I even considered turning around and heading toward Irving to pick her up, but I realized that would be sheer suicide; I would get there just in time for the bomb to hit. Perhaps Carolina would escape anyway. If she had left immediately when the news of the bomb had come, she could have had time to get away. But how would I ever find her again if the whole area was blown up? I might never know for sure what had happened to her.

Although my thoughts were strained by anxiety about Carolina, at least now I did have a traveling companion. Sitting beside me in the front passenger seat was my high school buddy, Mike Walls. Seeing Walls with me was a little strange, but I was happy he was there. I reflected how I hadn't hung around with Walls for over 20 years, back when I was in high school and college. We had had some wild times together and had been close friends. After we had gone our own ways, Walls had lived a thoroughly dissipated life, almost a reprobate, and we had had little in common. Yet during my teenage years, when we had been friends, we had been tightly bonded. He seemed to have been the most loyal, trustworthy friend I had ever had, and I was very happy to have him with me now at this dangerous time.

Suddenly I looked down at the gas gauge and I groaned. It was on empty. What a nightmare! Where would we find gas now? Undoubtedly everything would be closed with everyone fleeing from the city. And indeed we passed several closed gas stations. Finally however, to my astonishment, on the other side of the street I saw an open station. I did a screeching U-turn, dexterously but dangerously avoiding other cars, swinging my car back around to the station.

I pulled the car up to a pump, dug a wad of bills out of my pocket and handed them to Walls. I told him not to worry about getting change, to just give the attendant more than enough to a pay for the gas and to hurry back. Meanwhile I got out and began pumping the gas. Wondering why the station was still open, I concluded the owner must think the bomb threat was a big hoax. Indeed, it seemed to me that similar bomb alarms had gone out in the past without the bombs actually coming. The owner had probably decided this was a great opportunity to make money, his station being the only open one around, and believing there would be no bombs, he had decided to stay open.

I however wasn't of the same mind. I was convinced the bomb would fall, and my only thought was to get out of town as fast as I could.

Dream Epics Home Page

Copyright 2013 by luciddreamer2k@gmail.com